“Make Good Art”

A few days ago, I happened to have a conversation with the first-guy-I-ever-fell-in-love-with after a really long time. When, out of the blue, he asked me if I still wrote poetry. I was surprised that he happened to remember that. And he was surprised when I told him that I had stopped writing.
There are times when you have epiphanies. And there are times when fate chips in to boost your morale. That, for me, was both. To write something and to be remembered for it- isn’t that what every artist wants? And to quote Neil Gaiman –

“Life is sometimes hard. Things go wrong, in life and in love and in business and in friendship and in health and in all the other ways that life can go wrong. And when things get tough, this is what you should do.

Make good art.

I’m serious. Husband runs off with a politician? Make good art. Leg crushed and then eaten by mutated boa constrictor? Make good art. IRS on your trail? Make good art. Cat exploded? Make good art. Somebody on the Internet thinks what you do is stupid or evil or it’s all been done before? Make good art. Probably things will work out somehow, and eventually time will take the sting away, but that doesn’t matter. Do what only you do best. Make good art.

Make it on the good days too.

And Fifthly, while you are at it, make your art. Do the stuff that only you can do.”
I might not be a writer, but I am an artist any day.

“- Grantedly Yours,”

There are things that people take for granted all the time. That loop, right there, is eternal. When you get something pretty, the first few days you spend showing that off to everyone and you tend to appreciate the value of the object. Then, you get a bit too cosy for comfort. That’s when all the problems start.
You never learn the value of some possessions in life unless you end up losing them. You never realise the worth of your headphones as a whole, unless you happen to damage one of the EarPods. Then, you are just left with a throbbing sensation in the temporal lobe of only one side of your brain. You never learn to value the bright, crystal-clear picture quality that your iPad has to offer until thin lines of cracks are spread all over the surface like spiderwebs. It’s things like that, that reserves the potential to make a person with OCD go completely loony and for people who think this way and yet, still think that they are normal, it’s the best chance you got to get yourself checked for that latent OCD bug. I dare you.
On steering away from objects,we arrive at relationships. I am not even going into the ‘guy takes girl for granted. Relationship falls apart’ scenario. Let us consider very small, seemingly insignificant instances, as mundane having dinner together. It’s friggin dinner. What’s so huge about it? Well, ask the same question to a couple who are in a long distance relationship. Let’s take a subpart of the situation. Let’s consider having dinner at the same time. You are probably together in the same country, hopefully, in the same city. Better yet, in the same house . You finish your work and have dinner together. What’s to be taken granted about that? Ask the couples living on opposite sides of the globe, where one’s morning starts with the other one going to bed. And I just took one small example.
Appreciate the value of what you get. Otherwise, as a wise man once said, “When you take things for granted, things you are granted, get taken.”

Of introductions

This is the 9th time that I start writing. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not like I have never written before, but left writing because I am surrounded by people who write beautifully and I realised that I am always going to be a Chetan Bhagat to their Orhan Pamuk.

24 hours ago, I would have scoffed at this preposterous suggestion. Me? Writing?? That, right there, would be the fastest way to get my boyfriend out of the door. Besides, I never learnt the intricacies, the rules associated with composing a good text. I make a number of grammatical and typographical errors (warning: turn back and flee, m’boy) plus,my vocabulary sucks.
I woke up in the morning today to realise that I didn’t give a fuck . I shouldn’t, rather.

I could have used a diary. But that doesn’t cut it.

Hence.